


Botched Job

by Dagran



Category: Dark Angel (TV), Death Stranding (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dark Angel, Caretaking, Fluff, Gen, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Seizures, X-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-01
Updated: 2020-04-01
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:00:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23432068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dagran/pseuds/Dagran
Summary: Designation X-8 229 aka Higgs. Runt of the litter. He got the love for freedom of the X-5 but also their seizures. Comfort ensue.
Relationships: Heartman & Higgs Monaghan
Comments: 2
Kudos: 7





	Botched Job

**Author's Note:**

> I love Death Stranding. I love Dark Angel. I want Dark Angel AUs for everything. Do I need to say more?
> 
> Since the X-Series kids were genetically engineered from the moment of their creation, I think we can all agree that nobody actually knows which synapses fritz when they get a seizure and that I have a lot of wiggle room here. Just so we're on the same page.

He’d been browsing the shelves full of movies and books trying to find something new to read while he was waiting for Heartman to wake up again. There were so many that he’d already read but so many more that he couldn’t imagine ever getting bored in this place.

The first minor convulsion came accompanied by a familiar foreboding feeling. Higgs pressed his mouth into a thin line. Not again. He’d said he would get some of the research books from the top shelf, but that would have to wait now. Higgs wasn’t stupid enough to try climbing in this state unless his life depended on it. And it didn’t.

Patting down his pockets Higgs clenched his jaw. Where the hell were those pills? He’d made a habit of keeping some on him at all times. Just in case. But that didn’t make him any better at finding them when the seizures hit. The next shaky jerk that went through had him clawing his fingers into the shelf next to him to steady himself. If he were any kind of lucky it would be over before Heartman came back from the dead, but Higgs knew better.

The worse they were the longer they lasted, and since his morning dose had done nothing to prevent his current state his chances were slim.

It was only a few seconds that his body remained still enough to move safely before the jerky shakes started again, and it should have been enough to get him at least to the nearest armrest of the couch, but all he managed was to lower himself onto the floor and hug his knees. Tensing the muscles in his shoulders and jaw as if that would keep the seizures under control, and at least for a moment, it seemed to work. And while he couldn’t keep himself still, it seemed to hold him somewhat together.

Higgs patted down his pockets again and found them in a zipped front pocket on his shirt. Tugging at the zipper with unsteady hands till it budged he somehow managed to get his fingers into the pocket and the pills out. Three would have to be enough. It was three more than he usually needed. But then again, usually, the seizures were neither this strong or this persistent.

Clawing his fingers around the pills his nails left imprints were they dug into his palm, he forced them down his throat, pressing his hand to his mouth as to not let them fall at any given point. Immediately wrapping his arm around his legs again. Heat was creeping up his spine and made him want to lie down. Visibly failing at trying to hold himself together Higgs stared a hole into the nothingness in front of him.

There was nothing he could do except wait it out. Hoping that the convulsions wouldn’t get so bad that he couldn’t keep himself upright anymore.

From somewhere far away he could hear the announcement that Heartman was coming back, but he didn’t have the head-space to bother with it. Or with the footsteps that rushed over to his side. Higgs lowered his head, as if meaning to rest it on his knees, or more accurately, hide.

Hugging his legs was all but the solution to his problems, but it did make him feel better about what was going on and at the very least it kept them somewhat under his control.

“What’s wrong?”

Higgs glanced up at Heartman who was standing next to him. His body shaking from the seizures. “Serotonin low,” Higgs managed, breathy. “Big time.” God, he needed to lie down, but there was no way he was going to make it to the couch alone in his current state.

“Do you need a doctor?” There was concern in his voice.

“Yeah, whatcha gonna tell ‘em?” Higgs laughed shakily. “That your genetically-engineered... friend has a design flaw in his... brain chemistry?” He spoke with pauses while he forced the words out anyway. Trying to stifle the small sounds of discomfort that were stuck in between. 

“You should lie down… somewhere less…” He didn’t need to say it. It was obvious that curled up next to a bookshelf wasn’t the best position to have a seizure of any kind ever. “Can you make it to the couch?” He was offering his hand but Higgs shook his head.

At this rate, he would break Heartman’s hand just trying to hold on to him, but there was no way he could steady himself now long enough to get up. So he sank back down and forced his eyes shut. Jaw muscles ticking in time with the convulsions. He was used enough to it to anticipate what was happening to his body, but that hardly made it any better.

He’d barely noticed how Heartman had gotten up and was now returning with an armful of pillows, which he used to cushion himself against the bookshelf. Invitingly he patted his leg. Higgs only stared, and otherwise might have refused but right now all he could do was follow the lead when Heartman carefully lowered his shaking body. Glad to be finally lying down. Some of the tension eased from his shoulders, but that wasn’t exactly because he wanted it to. Like a fever, the heat flared up, as if lying down had triggered a switch in his brain.

Keeping his lips pressed tightly together Higgs tried to remain quiet. He probably looked enough like a pile of misery, there was no need to sound like one. Though he didn’t completely manage that.

Once they had found out about the seizures the experiments had started. He hadn’t been the only one but he’d been the first and somehow that had made everything worse.

His eyes closed when he felt Heartman’s hand touched his hair, the gesture unfamiliar but welcome in his current state. Finding the gentle touch soothing. “Seems like you hit a rough patch...”

Higgs’ eyes wandered up without moving his head. Releasing a shaking breath, he focused his stare onto Heartman’s shirt again, trying to stifle the small sound of discomfort in his throat. His mouth didn’t immediately cooperate but eventually, he managed a quiet, “yeah…” Immediately squeezing his eyes shut in response. Glad for the hands that tried to keep him still.

The worst had to be over soon. The tryptophan had to help eventually. Either that or the seizure stopped on its own. Higgs couldn’t care less for what came first while he kept his hands fisted into Heartman’s shirt.

Eventually, the convulsions became fewer and were replaced entirely replaced by exhaustion. The heat hadn’t dissipated just yet, but Higgs knew that it would soon follow suit.

His grip on Heartman’s shirt loosened almost on its own and this time when he closed his eyes it was to take a deep breath. And this time when Heartman carded his fingers through his hair and smoothed his thumb over his forehead Higgs couldn’t hold back the quiet sound of contentment in the back of his throat.

“Better?”

Higgs hummed quietly. “I will be,” he muttered, staring mindlessly at the white and blue fabric in front of him. “Do you still have time?”

“Enough.” Higgs sighed, with too much obvious relief for his taste this time. “What did you mean by design flaw?”

Higgs had always hated when others had regarded him as nothing more than an experiment – a science project, but there was something about Heartman’s curiosity that didn’t make him mind at all. Perhaps he was only kidding himself. Perhaps not. Perhaps he was only a kind scientist, but right now Higgs didn’t have enough brainpower to contemplate which of these things made Heartman ask.

“Do seizures sound beneficial for a genetically engineered killing machine?” He didn’t wait for Heartman to answer when he made himself comfortable and trailed a finger along the cable that disappeared from the bottom of his AED under his shirt. “Someone botched the job,” Higgs replied more bitterly than he wanted Heartman to know.

Heartman made a little sound that indicated that he was listening.

“There’s nothing to say. Really. I hit a serotonin low, my brain fritzes out, I get a seizure, that’s all there is to it. They’re just not that bad usually.”

“So what you really need is a way to monitor your levels,” he observed. But there was no need for saying that there was no way Higgs would let anyone put cufflinks on him. Bridges would lock him up, turn him into a science project and possibly kill him, most likely in that exact order, if they got wind of what he was. The thought was as depressing as it made him angry.

“Can I stay like this just a while longer?” Higgs mumbled so quietly it was almost inaudible. The seizure had tired him out and no matter how superhuman fast his body would recover it still needed the time to do so.

“Till my heart stops, if you keep an eye on me.”

Sighing Higgs closed his eyes and hummed in quiet agreement. “Deal.” He didn’t even mind when he noticed Heartman’s thumb stroking over the barcode on the back of his neck. Anticipating the robotic voice warning them of the next cardiac arrest with half an ear.

**Author's Note:**

> If ya liked it let me know. I have absolutely no substance for a plot here but I love the show and the game if you wanna read more of this I'll make it work.


End file.
